Adventures in Babysitting
by Ponaco
Summary: A normal scavenging outing takes a turn when Mikey and Donnie come across something unexpected. A B-Team adventure.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes: This was my original attempt for the TMNT Big Bang until I settled on something else entirely, but I still like this ridiculous little fic and hope others might find it at least mildly amusing. 2012 verse, B-team. Part One: Michelangelo. **

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><p>Adventures in Babysitting<p>

Michelangelo

It was late, well, technically it was early I suppose. My breath hangs in a mist on the cold air and I bounce up and down on the balls of my feet in an attempt to warm my numb legs. He said we would only be here for a few minutes, an hour tops, that was three hours and forty two minutes ago. I've been keeping track. He's so excited and focused my usual tactics of annoyance have zero affect and I give up with a sigh and a pout. There's no talking him out of something when he's like this. It's best to wait and hope he tires himself out.

"Mikey, Mikey come here," he hisses.

He's using that excited whisper of his that you would think would lead to something cool but more often than not just means he found some new piece of metal or a spool of wire with a name I can't remember let alone pronounce. I try to fake excitement. It was easier when I thought this would be a quick stop. After an hour crawled by and it was clear we weren't leaving any time soon excitement became more and more difficult to come by. My stomach gives a loud growl and I'm sure the armed guards at the entrance can probably hear it. At this point I hope they do. At least a fight might warm me up.

"Did you find more wire?" I ask with a sigh, climbing up onto the pile he's currently ratting through.

"Nope, well, yes, but more importantly I found this," he replies and he sounds damn near giddy.

His head pops up over the twisted remains of a Humvee door, the moonlight catching the flash of white teeth as he grins down at me. He holds up a piece of metal and plastic that looks like every other piece of metal and plastic he's dragged out of the trash tonight. I have no idea what it is, but apparently it's great because Donatello is dusting it off and cradling it in his arms like a newborn baby. I blink and try to force a smile around my chattering teeth.

"Oh…umm, yeah, that's awesome, D," I say, cupping my hands together to blow hot air across my freezing skin. "I can't believe they just left that lying around out here. The things people throw away these days."

"Ha, I know, right?" he replies with a chuckle, holding it up to the moonlight for further inspection. "Just think of all the things I could do with this," he says, gently placing it inside the duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

"Well, you're probably not going to find anything better than that out here tonight. Better to quit while you're ahead, am I right?" I say, almost slipping on the unsteady tower of garbage beneath my feet.

He blinks, suspicion flickering across his eyes before settling on something closer to hurt and I know I've blown my cover. "If you want to head back you can," he says quietly, turning his attention to rummaging once more. "I can finish up here on my own."

His excitement is gone in the time it takes him to say those two, short sentences. It's my fault. I should have pretended better. He shouldn't be out here on his own, it isn't safe. That's the whole reason I came with him in the first place. Also, the promise of food afterwards might have swayed my decision.

"Nah, man, it's not that," I say quickly with a grin that might be a little too big. "It's just getting late."

His hands only pause for a second and I can see his shoulders tense. "I know you're bored, Mikey. You can go. It's fine."

But it's not fine. My grin falters and I'm about to deny everything he accused me of. I don't get the chance. There's a crunch of boots on loose gravel and we both drop down in unison as a flashlight beam arches over our heads. The guard doesn't linger and I can hear pieces of a rather adult sounding conversation and I'm sure whoever he is talking to on the phone has the vast majority of his attention. We wait until he's rounded the corner all the same. Donnie lifts his head and we share a wordless nod before moving for the fence. We drop down on the other side, sliding into the shadows until we're free of the glare of the street lamps and hidden in the relative safety of an alleyway.

"It's not fine," I say, picking up the conversation as though we weren't interrupted in the first place.

He won't look at me, but I can see his hand clench around the strap of his duffle bag and there's more than a little snip to his voice when he replies. "Forget it, Mikey. Let's just go home."

I won't forget it. I can't forget it. He's mad at me and that just won't do. "Donnie…" I try to take hold of his arm, starting when he recoils from my touch.

"I said forget it," he says again, finally turning to look at me. "If you didn't want to come here that's fine. I could have gone on my own like I always do," he says, apparently not forgetting it. "But you don't have to pretend…you don't have to make fun of me," he tears open the bag and pulls out the infamous piece of metal and plastic and waves it in front of my face. "Do you have any idea what I could do with this?" he asks. I don't respond. I don't have to. He thinks I've wronged him and he wants to rant. I'll let him. "It's important, Mikey. It's worth getting excited about. If you had any idea…if any of you did…it's important. You don't have to laugh at me because you don't understand."

His shoulders slump and he puts it back in the bag. I wait a few seconds before responding in case he isn't done.

"I wasn't making fun of you," I say and I mean it. "I wasn't laughing at you."

He lets out a dismissive snort and it's my turn to get angry.

"I wasn't," I insist. "You're right though. I don't understand. I have no idea what that thing is, or why you're so excited about it, but if you think it's important I believe you."

He stares at me and his face crinkles into a guilty grimace. It isn't much better than him being mad at me and I sigh in defeat. I try to think of something that will make him laugh or at the very least roll his eyes and lighten the mood. I could tell a joke at Raph's expense. That usually does the trick. Or failing that everyone thinks a well-timed fart is hilarious. Well, almost everyone. Not Sensei. I learned that the hard way.

"Do you hear that?" he says, stopping me short.

I blink and look over my shoulder. "Hear what?" I ask, my eyes growing wide when I most definitely hear that.

It's a quiet, mewling sort of sound that crackles at the edges and reminds me of nails on a chalkboard or something of equal pitch and annoyance. Donnie has forgotten he's possibly angry with me and he's on the hunt. I look with him, moving aside the gathered trash and debris along the alley walls in search of what could be making that awful sound. I stand on my toes and push open the lid on the dumpster. The hinges groan and the lid slams into the bricks behind it with a shower of rust.

"Ugh, I think there's something dead in here," I grumble, quickly dropping the lid while trying to swish away the offensive smell with my hand. "Maybe it's…holy chalupa," I breathe when I catch sight of something behind the dumpster.

I lower my shoulder and push it away from the wall with a grunt and hurry to pick up the source of the mewling sound that has grown into a full on cry.

"Mikey, don't," Donnie says.

He tries to grab me, but I'm too fast and I dance out of his reach with the tiny bundle held in my arms. She's wrapped in a tattered pink blanket covered in cartoon puppies with a matching winter cap and yellow onesie. Her screams die down to a whimper when I gently rock her back and forth and she nuzzles against my arms for warmth. Donnie is staring with his mouth open and his eyes wide.

"Mikey, don't, you can't…put it back. We'll call the police…"

"Her," I correct him, tickling her stomach with my finger until she kicks her feet in appreciation.

"What?" he murmurs, looking frantically around the alleyway as though this is some sort of elaborate trap.

"Her, she's a girl, not an it," I say, lifting my chin and holding her closer to my chest. "And we shall call her…Ally. Cause, ya know, we found her in a…"

"We cannot name her after an alley," Donnie says. He paces and shakes his head and I'm pretty sure he's close to panicking. Those are defiantly his panic eyes. "We can't name her at all. We have to put her back and call the police. Put her back, Mikey."

I hold her close to my chest as though he might snag her away. "It's freezing out. We can't just leave her on the ground!" I say, aghast at the very suggestion. "We can take her to the lair. You'd like that, wouldn't you, Ally?"

"No, no, absolutely not. We cannot take her back to the lair. She's not one of your stray cats, Mikey! We'll bring her to the hospital and leave her by one of the doors. I'm sure…"

I clamp my hand over his mouth and pull him up along the wall. A beam of light shines into the alleyway and I drop down behind the dumpster to avoid it. Donnie crouches beside me, ducking his head a bit more to keep to the shadows. I keep my hand over his mouth just in case.

"You left her out here?!"

An angry voice demands; followed by the thwack of someone getting hit upside the head. It's a sound I am all too familiar with.

"Only for like five minutes. I wrapped her in a blanket. She's fine."

"You better hope so," the first voice grumbles. "Because…what the hell?"

We've been spotted. To be fair there really isn't a good place to hide in this small alleyway. It isn't my stealthiest moment, but with a baby in one arm and my other still holding onto my brother I'm left with very few options. I kick out with both legs, catching the smaller of the two in the shins before landing on my butt. Luckily, Donnie seems to forget his momentary panic and pries loose from my grip to knock the other guy unconscious. A gun clatters across the pavement and I kick it away before Skinny-guy gets any ideas.

"What do you want with Ally?" I growl, grabbing him by the collar.

He blinks, wide, frightened eyes and gapes with a rounded fish mouth. Speaking is a struggle and he only manages to squeak out a garble. "What?"

I motion with my head to the baby. She's upset again and I can't say that I blame her. I wouldn't like being jostled around so much either. Skinny-guy doesn't respond, so it's no more Mr. Nice Turtle. I hold Ally out towards Donnie expectantly.

"Take her for a minute and cover her eyes. She doesn't need to see this," I say using my best impression of a dirty cop.

"No way. I'm not taking her," Donnie says, holding his hands up palms out while shaking his head. "What if I drop her?"

Donnie might not watch as much TV as me, but I expect him to at least be smart enough to understand what I'm trying to do here. You can't have bad cop without good cop and I can't threaten to rough this guy up with a baby in my arms. I turn my head slowly and open my eyes as wide as I can, hoping he gets on board. He shakes his head again. I don't have time for this. I grab his arms and force Ally into them so he has no choice but to hold her.

"Support her head," I grumble, wondering how a supposed genius can't figure out how to properly hold a baby.

Ally apparently doesn't mind my brother's ineptitude. She curls up against his chest and wraps her tiny fingers around the leather strap that runs across his plastron. He looks terrified. It would be funny if this wasn't such a serious situation. It's still pretty funny. She's barely longer than his hand and he pulls up the blanket before holding her against his chest. He's still shaking his head and his mouth is pinched closed so tightly the skin around the edges has turned white. I don't know why he looks so nervous. She isn't crying anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes: Part Two of this little fic is from a very nervous Donatello's POV. Donnie is totally done :0)**

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><p>Donatello<p>

This can't be happening. This is some horrible, awful nightmare. All I wanted was to scavenge computer parts. That's all. A quick trip to the junkyard and then I'd have enough supplies to keep me busy for weeks. I should have gone alone. I wanted to go alone, but Leo insisted it wasn't safe so Mikey drew the short straw. I thought he would fidget and chatter until we left and then we'd get pizza; just a normal, uneventful scavenging run. I don't know how things went so spectacularly wrong in the span of just a few short minutes.

Mikey is doing his best crooked cop routine, but I'm not paying attention. I have bigger things to worry about. Well, smaller things technically. I'm going to drop her, or crush her in my big, clumsy hands. There is no way this ends well. I move my shoulders and try to find a position where it doesn't feel like she is about to come flying out of my hands at any moment. At least she isn't wiggling. What if she starts to wiggle?! I tighten my grip and lift my other hand to rest against the back of her head, shielding her hopefully from the cold.

"You better start talking or I'll…"

The man cuts off Mikey's threat with a squeal like a sneaker on linoleum. "I didn't take her!" he insists, pointing at the unconscious man at his feet. "Louie did. He's the one you want!"

"Then why did Louie take her?" Mikey demands.

He tightens his grip on the man's shirt and pushes him against the brick wall. The man lets out another yelping screech and starts to prattle off a series of curses and swear words that make me instinctively cover the baby's ears. Which is ridiculous really. She can't possibly have the cognitive capacity to retain, let alone…this is not the time. I sigh and look nervously at the mouth of the alleyway. The man's cries are sure to attract attention and we've already been seen by two, too many tonight. Well, technically three too many.

"Money! Her rich parents are going to pay our boss big money to get her back," the man explains and I feel a twinge of guilt when he starts to cry. "That's all I know, I swear! Please don't kill me or…or experiment on me!"

Mikey blinks and glances over at me for an explanation. I shrug in response. The man sniffles and looks between the two of us with his own confused expression.

"Cause…isn't that what aliens do?" he asks meekly.

Mikey clears his throat and juts out his bottom lip in a scowl that is eerily similar to how Raphael looks when he's mad. "Yeah, that's right. That's exactly what we do. We're gonna take you to our spaceship and he's gonna cut you open and dig around in your guts just to see how they work!" Mikey says, pointing at me emphatically.

I hold back a sigh, but can't refrain from rolling my eyes. "Why do I have to be the one who experiments on people?" I grumble.

Mikey's head snaps in my direction for a fraction of a second, the full force of the angry Raph-look directed at me. "Because that's what alien scientists do," he hisses.

I'm done playing his game. I'm done with this whole night. All I wanted was to scavenge some computer parts and now I'm stuck in a cold alley with an inept kidnapper and a very tiny baby in my arms. This is not how tonight was supposed to go and I don't like when things deviate from the plan.

"Who are her parents?" I ask and the man cowers when I take a small step forward.

"I can't…I don't know. Andersons or uh, Andrews, something like that. Her Dad is some big shot district attorney or something. Got messed up in something he shouldn't have so my boss had to send him a message. That's all I know, I swear!"

"William Anderson?" I ask with a sigh that starts in my shoulders and travels all the way down to my toes, remembering several news stories from the past couple weeks.

Mikey blinks and turns to look at me. "You know him?"

The man takes Mikey's brief moment of distraction as an attempt at escape. He flails and trips trying to climb to his feet. Failing that he tries a less physical strategy.

"Help!" he screams, his shrill voice making the baby whimper and squirm. "Help! I'm being attacked!"

Mikey makes quick work of him and soon he's slumped unconscious next to his partner in crime. Someone must have heard that.

"We have to go," I say, looking towards the mouth of the alleyway, expecting the police to swoop down on us from all sides. "Take her," I insist, my nerves obvious in my voice.

I try to disentangle her tiny fingers from the strap across my chest, but she is shockingly strong for a baby and holds firm. I give a little tug and pry her loose resulting in a wail the likes of which I have never heard before. It's piercing and held aloft by every ounce of power her small lungs can muster. I hold her out to Mikey, letting her chubby legs dangle in front of me.

"Take her!" I say again, the nerves jumping over the edge to panic.

The baby squirms and wriggles and I'm certain I'm about to drop her.

Mikey reaches out, stopping when the baby recoils and tries to press herself against me once more. "We have to get out of here," Mikey says with a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes when I try to shove the baby at him again. "Just hold her," he snaps in a very un-Mikey-like tone of authority.

I hate him. I hate this. I just wanted to scavenge computer parts. I give up. I don't really have a say in the matter as when I relent and hold her against my chest she instantly stops wailing. Mikey looks rather smug and I would punch him if my hands weren't otherwise occupied. The baby whimpers and sniffs, settling in once I wrap her blanket around her and hold her steady with my hand.

"Aw, she likes you," Mikey says and I can feel my lip curling back into a sneer.

He only laughs in response and we duck into the shadows.


	3. Chapter 3

Michelangelo

"This is a bad idea," Donatello says for the millionth time since we reached the sewers.

I don't respond. If I said something every time he whined I would lose my voice before we even got to the lair. He walks with overly careful steps, inching along the ledge as if the center of the tunnel is made of lava. Alley is curled up in his arms. She still has her tiny hand wrapped around the leather strap across his chest and snuggles against his plastron with an exaggerated sigh and quiet mewl. I don't know what he's so nervous about. She's just a little baby.

"Calm down, D," I say with a sigh as he practically yelps when she stretches her legs and wiggles.

"Calm down?" he says, in that even tone of voice he uses before he yells. "Calm down? How can I calm down?!"

He glances down at Alley, remembering at the last moment not to raise his voice. He tucks the blanket back around her feet and lets out a snort of air through his nostrils. I can't laugh. If I laugh he will only get angrier. His pupils shrink to pinpoints. I know that look. He's going to freak out. I take a deep breath and hold up my hands, palms out wide so he knows I mean no harm.

"All right…fair enough, but it's going to be fine, I promise. We'll take her back to the lair. Master Splinter will know what to do," I say slowly, forcing him to keep eye contact.

"He's going to kill us," he says with a quick shake of his head and a mournful groan. "We should have left her at the hospital. I never should have let you talk me into this."

"It wasn't safe, Donnie," I insist. "Those guys were after her. We couldn't just leave her."

He scrunches his eyes shut and takes in a slow breath. Alley wiggles again and he opens his eyes to glance down at her. She coos at him and I know I won't get any more arguments from my brother. He sighs and holds her close. He walks with his head slightly lowered, like a turtle on his way to the electric chair. I don't know why he's being so dramatic. Master Splinter won't be that angry. I'm pretty sure he won't. Well, he might be, but he won't stay angry for long. I'll make him realize we had to help her. He'll understand…eventually.

The sewer tunnel opens up into the expansive subway track that signals were closer to our home. Donnie tenses up again and stops short of walking through the turnstile. I push against his shell and he has no choice but to move forward. The lair is quiet and dark except for the soft glow of the television. Raph is asleep on the couch, oblivious to the infomercial crackling on the screen. Donnie stays put just inside the turnstile, standing as straight as his bo staff. I roll my eyes and push on his shell again.

"Come on," I whisper. "It's late. We should make her a nest."

"Human babies sleep in cribs," Donnie replies, always having to be right. "Don't they?"

I shrug. "Do you have a crib?"

"No, of course I don't have a crib," he snaps.

"Wh-where the heck have you been?" Raph asks from the couch. "What time is it?"

His voice is gruff with sleep and he stretches his mouth in a loud yawn. Donnie's eyes widen into perfect circles and he clutches Alley closer to his body, turning so Raph can't see her. I don't know why he's bothering. Raph is already on his feet, stretching from side to side and cracking his neck. He vaults over the back of the couch and narrows his eyes. I grin and offer a small wave.

"Hey, Raph. Have a nice nap?" I ask, ignoring his questions.

"What are you two up to?" he demands.

He pushes me aside and tries to grab hold of Donnie's shoulder. I take hold of his wrist before he gets the chance and only wilt a little under his angry gaze. The anger doesn't last. It's replaced by shock and awe when Alley whimpers and peels off into a shrill, scared cry. Raph pulls his arm back as if my hand burnt him. He points at Donnie and shakes his head in disbelief.

"What…is…that?" he says aghast.

"Uh, Raph, meet Alley," I say with a bashful smile.

"Stop calling her that," Donnie hisses, already trying to stop her crying. "She has a real name."

"Well, do you know it?" I demand, putting a hand on my hip.

"No, but…"

"Please tell me you two didn't kidnap that baby!" Raph says, interrupting our argument with the shrill question.

"What? No, of course not," I say with a pout. "We saved her."

"And you thought bringing her to the lair was a good idea?" he says, each word still cracking in disbelief.

"What is going on out here?"

We all cringe and fall into silence at the stern voice of Master Splinter. Even Alley seems to understand that you don't speak when Sensei is talking because she whimpers and falls silent. Donnie keeps her held against his chest and I can see each nervous swallow as it moves down his throat. Master Splinter moves to stand beside us and I force myself to look up from the ground.

"Sensei," I say, clearing my throat. "We found her…they…these guys they kidnapped her. They were going to hurt her. We had to save her."

He doesn't say anything. I hate when he does that. His whiskers twitch and there's a rumble deep in his throat as he pulls gently on his beard. He's probably thinking of the best way to punish us. I stand my ground. I'm right about this. He has to see that. They all do.

"They were going to hurt her, Sensei," I say again.

He lowers his gaze to meet my eyes and I don't look away. He offers a slow nod and I let out the breath I'm holding. His robe swishes as he leans over Donatello for a closer look. He lifts the blanket aside and gently touches the top of her head. She wiggles and moves, but doesn't necessarily avoid his touch. I see his features soften and I know we're not in trouble. Not tonight anyway.

"Who is she?" he asks, his voice quiet and precise.

"William Anderson's daughter," Donnie replies, adding when Sensei and Raph blink at him in confusion. "He's a district attorney."

"Hmm," Master Splinter says with another pull of his beard. "We must return her to her family."

I can't help but pout. I knew we weren't going to keep her, but it still makes me sad to think that I'll never see her again. Master Splinter rests his hand on my shoulder.

"You did well keeping her safe, my sons," he says and the compliment makes me feel better…a little better anyway.


End file.
